It Started with a Pair of Scissors
by xmichikox
Summary: Just a oneshot on how Alice Will of Abyss felt when she vowed Oz would regret choosing Alice B-Rabbit over her. Please note that "Alyss" Will of Abyss is referred to as "Alice" since that is her name and "Alice" B-Rabbit is not.


Alice was the name she was given, but so few people had called her that in her life that she'd begun to forget it was even her name. Sitting like this was the most she'd done in so long, and the emotions swelling in her were the strongest she'd felt in so long. The stuffed rabbit lay at her feet, spilling it's cotton innards over the floor. The darkness had long taken over this place, filled with broken dolls and broken girls. She hated being alone here.

There was a lot she hated. She hated Glen for taking away "that person." She hated Vincent for breaking her toys, breaking her cat, and breaking her own spirit with those accused scissors. She still remembered that fancy pair soaked a deep crimson, open beside a dead, blinded Cheshire cat and that disgustingly ornate pair sticking out of her own chest, dripping with her blood. She hated everyone who would dare steal what was precious to her.

Was there anything she liked? Yes, of course! Jack. He was her world. She still could recall what he'd said to her; that he was going to bring her to his house to play in the fields, to get lost in the mazes and pick the roses. Somehow roses no longer held joy to her. Instead they seemed to bleed mockingly at her, reminding her of all she had lost. All that she hated.

She hated him. She hated every last piece of Vincent, who'd taken everything, everything away. It wasn't much; it was just what she could hang onto. But Vincent came anyways, covered in blood hauling that wretched black haired boy on his back who would pull her hair and yell at her, with a dirty little smirk plastered on his face and blood on his cheek and a sort of evil glee in his eyes, as if he were enjoying every last moment of her pain.

His words still cut her heart, that Jack was dead. But she knew it wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault because she had never done anything wrong. Never. It was all theirs. It had to be; they always troubled Jack, throwing their problems onto him, especially the one with the red eye, especially Vincent. The cause of misfortune; that had to be it. If he wasn't there, none of this would have happened. She felt sick just thinking of all the terrible things he'd done to Jack, to her. If he wasn't there Cheshire would still be here, Jack would still be here, the white Alice would still be here.

But that Alice died away; the sweet girl had died on that day when those scissors cut through her flesh, the little girl died and the Will of Abyss was born. Oh well, she still had a last hope, the one who had kindly donated his eye to Cheshire. He'd grant her wish, right? Or would he not; would he be bad like every one and everything else outside of this room?

Yes, everything else was bad, everything else would break her with scissors. Especially the brown haired one who looked exactly like herself. In fact, she even looked prettier than that stupid mud-haired chain. Her pure white hair would blow gently as she spun around, her snow white dress would billow out, her soft skin was white as paper and surely her face was more attractive. She was dainty and lady-like, and of all people she wanted the most to be loved. That brown-haired rat had thrown away the precious memories just to be rid of a few wounds; surely she must be better than the brown-haired one?

So then why? She'd offered tea, fun, games and toys, what else did the world want from her? Had she not given it her all? Had she not sat and innocently hoped for something that the world had hung in her window only to snatch it away out of cruelty at the last moment? What was wrong with her; they shared the same name, the same face, and surely she was the most pure? Did she not do everything for him? What did the brown-haired girl do; she didn't even know him.

And yet somehow, for some reason he'd refused her. He'd refused her beauty, her purity, everything she'd offered; her love, her life, everything. All for what? That stupid, stupid mud haired girl. What was so great about her anyways?

Cracked dolls and twisted heads grinned wickedly, chattering excitedly.

"He's done it now!"

"He's hurt Alice!"

"He's refused her love,"

"Her life,"

"Her soul."

Alice's pale lips pulled down into a scowl and her milky nails dug into her arms. She choked back the sorrows of centuries of waiting for the reunion he'd refused. Her teeth clenched together and all the pain and tears boiled into spite. She barred her teeth, glaring at the dead stuffed toy at her feet. The new Alice made her final promise to the new Jack.

"You'll definitely regret picking the black rabbit over me...Without fail."


End file.
